Braving Tradition
by JBGiles
Summary: Timeline: After 'Chosen' Do our heroes have the courage to face a traditional Watcher's Wedding? I own nothing but my imagination and the characters I made up... yadda, yadda. After Taking England B/G


Braving Tradition

by JBG

Timeline: After 'Chosen' – post Season 7

Premise: So, they're engaged. Do they have the courage to face a traditional Watcher's Wedding Ceremony? To say nothing of the preliminaries...

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse...

Buffy/Giles - rated PG-13

********

The Regent hotel in downtown London was a happy place tonight. The main dining room was decorated with hundreds of carefully gathered decorations, and every table boasted an ivory vanilla-scented candle. White and cream flowers were everywhere. The wait staff, dressed in their formal tuxedos, carried shining silver trays of food and beverages to chattering guests. In the kitchen doorway, Andrew David Hostettler, the hotel's owner and manager, beamed his approval to his staff. They always rose to the occasion with great aplomb.

At times the chatter would stop, and some of the guests would freeze in their tracks, smiles plastered across their faces. A flash would brighten the room for a few seconds, and then the group would thaw, going back to their conversation with tolerant grins. The slender American teenager who was engineering the momentary interruptions followed each moment with a burst of chatter into her cell phone. She was sending instant pictures over the tiny gadget to one of her oldest and best friends.

"Did you see that one?" Dawn said in a stage whisper, giggling behind her hand. "Isn't he the dreamiest?"

Across the Atlantic in Los Angeles, Xander Harris sighed for the umpteenth time. "You mean, dreamier than the last one?"

"Hey, I'm footloose and fancy free! I can date them all if I want. If I'd known England was full of hunks, I'd have so been on a plane years ago."

"Not exactly qualified to comment on the hunkiness of English guys, Dawnie. No matter what gay Larry said."

"Who?"

"Never mind. Back to the party. Where are the guests of honor? I want to see them."

"They've been kinda hard to track. Lots of tweed-types keeping them monopolized. This engagement party is the coolest. The food is great, and I've never seen so many flowers." Dawn craned her neck, spotting a familiar-looking head of blonde hair across the room. "I love this picture-taking phone, Xand. I can't believe Giles of all people would buy me one."

"And send one to all of us so we could keep in touch. The G-man is definitely in love."

"Buffy's about to wear hers out. I think she talks to Willow about eighty times a day."

"At least Will's on the same continent," Xander pouted. "I'm stuck here in lumber land being a flunkie again."

"You'll love England when you come over here for the wedding! It's cool, temperature-wise, and also cool, style-wise. Not all stuffy like Giles was when I first saw him. Except for the Watcher-types... they're still all done up in tweed."

"Giles was always a law unto himself," Xander replied with a chuckle. "I already got my tickets in the mail."

"Yeah. He's the big kahuna now, though, and he's gonna fix everything. This is gonna be such fun! Oh, I just saw the _weirdest _dress! You gotta see..."

Dawn flitted off into the crowd. Buffy spotted her sister harassing a bunch of people they'd never met before, and smiled. Dawn was going to do fine in England.

"So, Watcher-mine, is this part of that English tradition you were telling me about?" She gave his arm a squeeze. "Look at all the flowers. It's gorgeous."

Giles took a moment to enjoy the atmosphere. It was entirely informal despite the setting, and he was more relaxed now than he could ever be at Council Headquarters. "It is rather nice, isn't it? Andrew is a master at creating an atmosphere with very little notice. I think he knows every caterer, florist, and rental agency in London. What he can't get done in his own kitchen he hires for a song. They all know he'll be sending business their way if he's pleased with their services."

"Good ol' Andrew," Buffy agreed, resting her head against his arm. "I'm glad you have such good friends, Rupert."

He couldn't help smile at her use of his name. It was becoming less forced with each utterance, and each time caused his heart to flutter with excitement.

She looked up at him without forsaking her comfortable lean. "You love it, don'cha?"

"What?"

"When I call you Rupert."

His smile broadened into a grin. "It gives me gooseflesh."

"You mean, goosebumps?" He snorted softly, and she giggled. "British guy."

"All of my tiresome British idioms are coming back to me now," he said dryly.

"Whatever the word, I know the feeling," she whispered, squeezing his arm again. "Uh oh, here comes the trans-continental picture monster."

Dawn waved her camera in their faces, beaming. "Giles, this is absolutely the coolest thing in the universe! Xander is just blown away!"

"As I will probably be, also, when the mobile bill comes."

"Cell phone," Dawn corrected snidely.

"When in England..." Giles admonished with an arched eyebrow.

She snapped a picture before they could pose, catching them both by surprise. "Very cool, flash-y cell phone," she said with finality, looking down at the picture. "Oooh, look... Giles has his 'Stern Watcher' look on. Xander will be so nostalgic." She addressed the phone, moving slightly away. "Here ya go, the happy couple looking all couple-y. What? You want one with Giles smiling? This is _Giles_ we're talking here. It's the best you're gonna get."

"Dawn, please go away and blind someone else for a bit." Giles blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his vision. His annoyance at Dawn's constant teasing went up a notch, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. After all, she was going to be an official part of his family soon.

"Geez, okay, whatever," Dawn drawled. Her mission accomplished, her attention had move on to another unsuspecting photo victim. A cute, young, male, British one. "Bye!"

Buffy and Giles watched Dawn as she stalked her prey, smiling tolerantly. Their moment of familial humor was interrupted by the host of their grand engagement party.

"Well, Rupert, does the old place meet with your approval?" Andrew asked, throwing a familiar arm around Giles' shoulders.

"It's marvelous, as always." Giles looked around the room, his eyes misting with gratitude. "Really, you shouldn't have."

"But I have, and you're just going to have to chin up and enjoy." Andrew nudged an elbow into Giles' ribs, causing him to smile. "There's no place in London does a party like the Regent, and you know it."

"That I do, mate," Giles agreed with a smile.

"It's so amazing," Buffy said softly, her eyes sparkling. "It's like Disneyland and the prom all rolled into one. I've never seen so many flowers." She pointed to an exquisite table setting. "What is that flower called? It's so delicate."

"Why don't you ask Benson? He's our resident expert on floral arrangements and their meanings." Andrew waved an older, gray haired man towards them. "Benson, Miss Summers is intrigued by your flowers. Perhaps you'd be good enough to show them to her?"

Benson's thin, stern face broke into a surprising smile. "I'd be delighted. Miss Summers?"

He held out his arm and she took it, giving Giles an impressed look as they glided away. Giles watched her with a contented... and slightly hungry... expression.

"Got it that bad, mate?" Andrew asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"The worst... but for the very best."

"You poor chap."

Giles laughed shortly. He continued to stare at his fiancée as she laughed and chatted with Benson. "Poor chap? Just look at her, Andrew. And to think she'd condescend to marry an old relic like me... well, actually... I'm rather chuffed."

Andrew laughed heartily, and the two friends headed for the bar to freshen their drinks.

********

"You can't be serious." Giles stared at his young aide. Anthony Wyndam-Pryce stared back, trying to be brave, but he couldn't help squirming just a little bit.

"It's all there in the Book of Ceremonies, Chairman. I assure you, my research was very thorough." A nervous hand swept several strands of unruly hair out of the young man's eyes. "Ironically, I would never have found it had I not been searching for the induction ceremony."

"How fortunate for me," Giles said dryly.

"But it is, sir! This... this is Tradition! History! Customs that brought the Council great honor and dignity in ages past! It's... practically priceless!"

Giles wondered at that point if the boy might start drooling soon. He sighed and perched on the edge of his beautifully polished desk. This might be his new inner sanctum, but at the moment, this young, earnest Watcher was crowding him terribly. "Anthony, I explained my position on these matters before. I refuse to blindly follow the tenets of hundreds of generations of power-mad old fools!"

"But... but..." Anthony sputtered, shocked that the newest Chairman of the Council would be so adamantly against Council tradition. He swallowed, pulling himself together. '_You're a Wyndam-Pryce,' _he told himself. '_Say your piece like a true Watcher!_' "Chairman Giles, again I must assure you. There is absolute purpose behind every single form and symbol in this ceremony. I would hardly recommend it to you if there were not." He barely kept himself from huffing indignantly.

Giles' shoulders slumped. The boy was probably right. Most of the ceremonies taken from ancient manuscripts in Council archives were hardly to be sneezed at. "All right, I will look at the ceremony, but I make no promises. You must remember that my fiancée is the Slayer, and that I should like to live through my wedding day."

Anthony's face flushed slightly as he realized he had succeeded... at least for the moment. "Of course, sir. I understand. Please feel free to question any particular sections that perturb you." He turned smartly, heading for the door. Giles cleared his throat, stopping him in his tracks.

"You do realize that we cannot have two massive, full-on ceremonies back to back? Terrible form. We may have to cut back on the induction in order to give the wedding its full prominence..."

Anthony realized a parting shot when he heard one. Without turning, he smiled. "Absolutely, Chairman Giles. I shall begin preparations at once." He exited the room, barely able to contain himself. He'd stood up to the famous Rupert Giles and had come away with all his limbs intact.

"Excellent job, Wyndam-Pryce," he told himself with a slight smirk.

"I bet it was," Dawn's voice made him jump, and he whipped around to find the Slayer's sister grinning at him from the hall. "Wha'd you do that was so excellent?"

He caught his breath, smiling at his new friend. "I spoke to Mister Giles about the ceremonies needed for a Watcher's wedding, and lived to tell."

Dawn giggled. The idea of anyone being afraid of Giles was hilarious. "What, does he have to sacrifice a goat or something?"

"Of course!" Anthony replied sincerely. "The most important ceremonies involve ritual sacrifices!"

"Ewwww," Dawn said, rolling her eyes. "I love you to death, but Watcher stuff is always so weird."

Anthony stopped and thought for a moment. Did she say... oh, wait, there was a derogatory remark as well. "I suppose it seems that way, to the uninitiated. But let's not talk about sacrifices at the moment... I believe we were going to lunch, weren't we?" He tossed his clipboard on his desk and straightened his tie.

Dawn gave him a happy smile. "Lunch it is. Lead on, McPryce."

"Oh, marvelous! Do you enjoy Shakespeare?" He held out his arm, and Dawn took it coyly. She had no idea that Shakespeare stuff was worth so many points to British guys.

"I love it, but the language is sometimes hard to understand. Maybe you could help me?" She gave him her best helpless maiden look, and his chest swelled visibly.

"Old English in all its magnificence," Anthony intoned. "I'd be delighted." He began to explain some of his favorite passages as they disappeared around the corner.

********

Giles sat across from his love and watched her face as she read the dreaded Book of Ceremonies. He kept his face carefully neutral, but inside he was quailing.

"Hmm," she said dramatically, closing the book with a slight grimace.

"Well? What do you think?"

"You want to know what I think? Do you _really_ want to know what I think?" Her voice rose slightly, and he winced. The comfortable couch in their hotel suite was long enough for her to curl in one corner without touching him. He suddenly wished he was across the room.

"Of course I want to know."

She studied the outside of the book, slowly tracing the carved leather that graced the cover. "I think ol' Tony has way too much time on his hands."

Giles snorted. "And an abundance of horrid old ceremonies he wishes to inflict on us."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. The expression on your face was enough." He stood and started pacing. "There are many things about the Council I mean to change, and this blind adherence to ancient mores is one of them."

"These rituals and symbols have some serious meaning, don't they?"

He couldn't believe she might actually be arguing for the ceremony. "Yes, and great power, to the initiated, they do. However, simply going along with them without understanding renders them meaningless."

"But wouldn't it be unlucky, or something, if we didn't do all this stuff? Would the Powers That Be frown?"

He gave it some thought. "There is that possibility. However, I chose to believe true love will win out."

"Very sweet." She gave him a brilliant smile before turning serious again. "Okay, your whole objection to this is because this stuff doesn't mean anything to me, right?"

"Yes."

"So... educate me."

He stopped in mid-pace and whirled to stare at her. "What?"

She uncurled her legs and stood with unconscious grace, approaching him slowly. "Tell me what all this gibberish means. Why it matters. Explain it to me so I can understand. Then, if I say, 'No bloodletting at MY wedding!' you'll know I mean it and I'm not just being squeamish."

He began to smile. "You are a treasure, love."

She moved into his arms with confidence. "You betcha, Watcher-mine."

He held her for several minutes, basking in her presence. Finally, he let her go and motioned towards the couch. "This could take some time."

They arranged themselves comfortably with the Book of Ceremonies across both their laps. "As long as I get a smoochie break now and then, I'm good."

An hour later, she wasn't so enthusiastic.

"But I don't have any parents to pay a bride price to! Except Dad, and I'd bet my dowry he won't even show. What would he do with a bunch of chickens anyway?"

"It doesn't have to be a blood relative. Anyone close to you that you acknowledge as parental can accept it. And the chickens aren't mandatory. It can be anything of value in the current society."

"I dunno... makes me feel like property."

"If it's any consolation, you have to bring a dowry. Something of a 'groom price'."

"Lucky me. My dowry consists of some one slightly used sister. You can have her."

Giles chuckled. He leaned down to give her a reassuring kiss on the lips, but she refused to raise her head. His lips met her cheek instead. "You did ask me to explain."

"Yeah, stupid me."

"There are parts of these rituals that are quite charming." He pointed to the opposite page. "The exchange of roses is lovely."

"I've seen something like that before," she agreed. "If only we weren't outside in the rain, it might be nice."

"It's perfectly permissible to construct a protective arbor, providing it is made of all natural materials." As an afterthought, he added, "And, it might not rain. There's always that possibility, however remote."

"Yeah, right. I've been here a couple of weeks and I've seen the sun exactly once."

"Let's keep a good thought, then."

"Don't you have some witch guys that can predict the weather?"

"If I did, I'd own the Weather Channel and all its affiliates," he responded. "Not even seers can predict the weather!"

"Okay, okay. So... an arbor? Sounds like a job for Xand the handy man."

"Yes." Giles turned the page, dreading the part about the ritual sacrifice. "I must say, most of this is not quite as bad as it sounds."

"Most of it," she agreed, her finger finding the most offensive passage unerringly. "But I will not cut an animal's throat in a white wedding gown. I don't care who gets miffed."

"I've been researching a way to avoid that," he admitted. "But I haven't quite found one as yet." He ignored her comment about wearing white... he'd save that bit of information for another time.

"I can stand the stinky herbs, the chanting, and the burning incense, but there will be no dead pigs, doves, or even grasshoppers at my wedding, Rupert Giles. Promise me." She fixed him with a flatly serious gaze, and he nodded.

"Nothing dies at our wedding, love. I will find a way. I promise."

"Okay, well, if a demon, vampire, or evil mad scientist happens to crash the party, they have my permission to die."

"Of course." He pressed a kiss to her temple and gave her a squeeze. She started smiling.

"You're too easy."

"I'm trying to be accommodating," he said with great dignity, making her giggle.

"I can think of other accommodating things to do." She closed the book and nuzzled his neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

"I take it this portion of the explanation is over," he said gruffly, leaning into her caresses.

"Definitely over."

********

Dawn tilted her head, examining her sister from head to toe. "Looks like a set of drapes," she informed Buffy, waving her hand at the crushed velvet material. "You look like Carol Burnett when she was wearing those huge curtain rods on her shoulders."

"You watch entirely too much TV," Buffy stated over the tops of several seamstresses' heads.

"I'm telling ya, green is not the color."

"We already tried on the red. It weighed a ton and made me look like an eighteenth century painting."

"I bet it's hot as blazes, too."

"Not in England in winter," Buffy theorized. "I bet it'll be cold outside, right, girls?"

One of the workers looked up from her pinning. "It usually is, Miss."

"See? I won't melt until I get inside."

"Where you're going to change into a pink kimono and drink tea while singing in Japanese."

"Right after the actual wedding," Buffy agreed brightly, and then her shoulders slumped in frustration. "Or is it before? Ohhhh... I'm never gonna keep this all straight."

"You'll be fine. Is there another dress? That is just not you."

Looking in the three-way mirror, Buffy had to agree. "Is there another one?" she asked the lady in charge of the wardrobe of the bride. "These two are really nice, but they're just not the 'one', if you know what I mean."

The matron curtseyed briefly, causing Dawn to muffle a giggle, and disappeared into the storage room.

"When is Willow coming? I thought she'd be here by now."

"This weekend. She's tied up with some Witchy conference right now. She says the stars are all nice and friendly for our wedding. I'm kinda glad she checked... with my luck, the first Watcher/Slayer wedding in umpteen years would bring down all the bad luck in the universe."

"I wonder how long it's been since a Watcher and a Slayer got married?" Dawn mused idly.

The question made Buffy think for a moment. "I don't know, exactly. I'll have to ask Rupert."

"You're getting better at that," Dawn observed.

"What?"

"Calling Giles Rupert."

Buffy smiled. "I kinda like it. When he's working, he's Giles, but when he's home, he's Rupert. My Rupert." A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. A cross between a growl and a moan rumbled up from her throat, and she sighed.

"Okay, you're starting to Ewww me out. Enough with the Giles-gooeyness."

The seamstresses finished unpinning the grass green gown and let it slide off Buffy's shoulders, revealing her slender form in a long, full slip. Behind them, the matron appeared, holding a new garment in her arms. Buffy's breath left her lungs with a whoosh when she saw it.

It was beautiful.

"Oh, wow," Dawn breathed, standing to get a closer look.

"Yeah... wow is close," Buffy agreed, stroking the incredibly soft material. It was a rich, dark blue, not quite indigo, but close. Lighter accents reflected off the nappy material, causing the color to shift from midnight to cobalt to cerulean. "But will it fit?"

The matron straightened slightly. "Ve vill make it to fit, Miss Summers," she assured Buffy in her thick German accent.

Buffy's eyes danced as they assembled the dress around her. The rich color complimented her sun-kissed skin and blonde hair. It was low cut, but not too daring, and the fitted sleeves kept the effect of a sleek silhouette. Even the floor-sweeping skirt fit her perfectly. "I can't believe this," she said in awe, looking at her reflection. "It's like it was made for me."

"It perhaps vas," the matron stated knowingly.

"Yeah." Buffy smiled at herself, finally beginning to relax. "This is definitely the one. I can't wait to see Rupert's face."

********

"I can't wait to see Buffy's face," Xander said with a wide grin.

"Xander," Giles warned, squaring his shoulders and flexing his arms to test the fit of the jacket.

"But it's crushed _velvet_, Giles! You're gonna look like an Elvis painting without the black light!"

"It's traditional," Giles retorted shortly. He was concerned about Buffy and her reaction to the Council's version of a wedding gown. He was tired of the fuss, tired of the ceremony, and was becoming tired of Xander's constant comments. He was beginning to regret flying the young man over two weeks early.

"But it's... it's..." Xander waved a hand helplessly. He couldn't think of the word that would describe his best guy-friend and mentor all dolled up in tights and frilly shirt. "And, by the way, nice legs."

"All right, that's enough!" Giles snapped, whirling on the younger man and making him recoil in surprise. "If you can't be supportive, at least be silent!"

Xander dropped his head. "Sorry, Giles... you know me, I have to make the little joke. It's not that bad, really." He gazed at the garish yellow velvet jacket, pink shirt and green leggings, fighting the urge to gag. "No, sorry, it really is that bad, but if this is the one you want, I promise not to make fun of it again."

Giles glared at him for a moment before turning back to the mirror. He stared at himself for a long time, taking in his entire outfit. "No, you're right. It's atrocious. I fear not even my marvelous legs can overpower this!"

"Modesty becomes you," Xander had to say before sliding down in his chair to avoid Giles' angry look.

Giles turned to the attendant, who was cowering in the corner, fearful of the Chairman's already famous temper. "Surely a compromise can be reached. I refuse to look a fool at my own wedding!"

"I can do some further research, Chairman," Anthony offered, peeking around the corner at his boss. "I was just perusing another manuscript from the late seventeen hundreds, and I may have found..."

"Oh, do come within at least a century of the present, will you?" Giles grated, tugging at the explosion of ruffles at his throat. "And get this ridiculous thing off me!"

The underlings scurried to obey, leaving Giles in his boxers and T-shirt within seconds. He stood there, at a loss as to what to do next.

"I know what you're thinking, young man, and you can just forget it," Xander patronized him, shaking a finger threateningly.

"And just what would that be, besides an understandable yearning for my own clothes?"

"You're thinking, 'Buffy and I could be in Vegas by tomorrow morning."

Giles began to chuckle, and Xander joined him. "How could you possibly know I was thinking of eloping?"

"Because if I was in your shoes, that's exactly what I'd be thinking right now."

Giles sat on the arm of the dressing room sofa with a heavy sigh. "What am I doing? This is supposed to be Buffy's big day, her finest hour, and I'm mucking it up with all this nonsense."

Xander shook his head. "No, the Buffster says she wants to do it this way, and she's not one for hiding her feelings. I heard her say so myself. I'm a witness."

"True enough." Giles stood as the attendant returned with a new garment in his arms. "Ah... at least the color's better."

"Nice," Xander commented. The more standard-looking jacket was a dark, jewel-toned green. The slim trousers were so dark they almost seemed black, but here and there a hint of matching green showed itself in the light. Another man entered behind them with a pure white tuxedo shirt. The shirring on the front was subtle but dramatic. "Oh, yeah, that's more like it, Big G."

"Don't call me that," Giles responded automatically, raising his head as the men dressed him. The shirt was comfortably snug, fitting nicely underneath the tailored tailcoat. The bowtie and cummerbund sparkled with silver and blue metallic threads interwoven with deep emerald green. The long tailcoat was lighter than it looked, made of a material that encompassed the depth of velvet and the sheen of silk.

"Fits you right," Xander commented as the attendants finished their job and stood back. "Very nice. Brings out the green in your eyes... not that I'm noticing." He held up a warning hand as Giles gave him a sharp look.

"Thank you, Xander. That is perhaps the most helpful thing you've said all day."

"I try. Mostly I try your patience, but I do try."

Giles smiled. This wasn't bad at all, he told his image in the mirror.

"I can't wait to see Buffy's reaction," he said aloud, causing Xander to grin.

"This is going to be some wedding," Xander predicted, glancing at his watch. "Oh, hey, I have to meet with your boys about the arbor. I hope some of them have an idea about which end of the hammer to hold."

"I think you'll find them knowledgeable," Giles assured him. "Go on. I think this is it."

"I think you're right," Xander agreed. "See ya later."

"Xander."

The young man stopped, giving his friend a slightly wary look. "Yeah?"

Giles broke into a genuine smile. "It's good to have you here."

"Oh, well, um... thanks, Giles. I wouldn't miss it for the world." Xander ducked his head and with a happy smile on his face, he sauntered away.

After Xander left, Giles sat experimentally, testing the comfort of the suit. It wasn't bad. "Perhaps we will get through this, after all," he told the Giles in the mirror with an uncertain smile.

********

Voices could be heard from inside the cathedral as the young couple approached. Dawn turned and waved goodbye to Anthony once she reached the doors. She watched, giggling, as he walked backwards, unwilling to take his eyes off her, until he collided with a passing pedestrian. She let herself into the church, squealing as she spotted Willow standing with Buffy in the aisle. She ran down the carpeted path, throwing her arms around her friend.

"When did you get here? Where are you staying? 'Cause we have a huge hotel room, and you can stay with us. Actually, it would probably have to be with me, 'cause Buffy and Giles probably don't want an audience..."

"Nice to see you, too, Dawnie." Willow held her back slightly, giving her a good look. "I think you've gotten a little taller, too."

"Nah, you're shrinking," Dawn teased, giving her another hug. "Now everybody's here! We can get this show on the road!"

"It's gonna be a show, all right," Buffy groused, plopping down on the front pew. "I've never seen anything like this. I'm gonna have Rupert put numbered tape marks on the floor so I'll remember where to stand next."

"Actually, it isn't all that complicated, Buffy," Willow said eagerly. "I mean, the handfasting part is straight from the Celts, and the dowry thing is Roman, I think. The sacrifice is Roman, too, although I'll bet it's got more ancient origins. And the candles..."

Buffy held up a hand. "I'm all ritualed out, guys. Just point me where I'm supposed to go."

"You have to memorize all the vows," Dawn reminded her. "And where to answer the Latin vows. And sing in Japanese. Good thing there's nothing in French, because you really suck at that."

Buffy groaned. "Can't I just say, 'I do' and be done?" She glanced at the typewritten script in her hand. "This is like starring in the school play, only I don't have three months to rehearse."

"Break the whole thing up into short pieces," Willow suggested. "That's what I do when I'm studying, and you know what a great study-er I am."

Buffy whined and dropped her head into her hands.

"You can do it, Buffy! I'll be study-buddy again, just like in high school. We'll make it fun."

"Ooo, can you put those little stars and smiley faces on her paper, like you used to?"

Buffy turned her head just enough to stare at Dawn.

"It worked for me," Dawn insisted.

Buffy reburied her face in her hands.

Footsteps at the back of the room caused Dawn and Willow to glance up. "Hey, Giles, good thing you're early," Dawn called softly, mindful of the setting. "Buffy needs cheering up."

"She does, does she?" He gave Dawn's shoulder a squeeze, caught a sideways hug from Willow, and sat down beside his moping fiancée. "And just what kind of cheering up must I do this time?"

His fingertips brushed along the nape of her neck, causing an involuntary shudder to race down her spine. She smiled into her hands despite her mood. "We're up to frozen yogurt already. Or, if such a thing is too sophisticated for British tastes, ice cream will do."

"Ah, I see. Well, come on, then. We need to research... our goal: frozen yogurt in London." He pressed a quick kiss against her exposed neck, and she giggled.

"What about us?" Dawn demanded, pointing to herself and Willow.

Giles took Buffy's hand and stood, bringing her to her feet. "As with all research, the more people involved, the quicker the problem is solved. I believe we have time to eat lunch before this starts."

"Goody! I'm starved!"

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked at Giles. "Why am I not surprised?"

He nodded in agreement. "Oh, for a teen-aged metabolism again," he said wistfully.

Buffy patted his firm stomach affectionately. "Your metabolism works just fine, handsome. Let's go!"

********

Anthony had just gotten back to headquarters when Sir Percival came bustling down the hall, looking as if he had something very important on his mind. Anthony sighed inwardly, knowing Percy would probably take an hour to impart what would take most people minutes to say.

"Percival," Anthony tensed inwardly and acknowledged the older man with a nod as he took his place behind his desk.

"This is most urgent. I must speak with the Chairman at once!" Expecting Anthony to dismiss his request, Percival pulled his shoulders back and prepared to defend his information's urgency.

"The Chairman has left his office. He is rehearsing for the wedding this afternoon," Anthony said with a hint of a smirk. "He's currently unavailable."

"The wedding is precisely what I wish to discuss with him!"

It was Anthony's turn to straighten in defense. "I assure you, I have researched the ceremony thoroughly and completely. Nothing has been left out."

"No, no, Anthony, you're missing the point!" Percival rattled a sheaf of papers at him. "It's not the ceremony itself, it's the rituals associated with it! Separately, they're harmless! Together, they could easily open a portal to the dark dimensions right under our feet!" Percival's face became more flushed as he spoke. "We must alter the rituals in some way, or we're all doomed!"

Anthony blanched. "That's not possible. The ceremony must be complete, or it's meaningless. If there were any danger, I would have found it in my research!"

Percy leaned over the desk and put an accusing finger in the middle of Anthony's chest. "You researched them separately, did you not? Did you even think of consulting Darconia's Compendium? Or the Black Watcher's diaries? No? I thought not!" Percival huffed with impatience. "Young fool!"

"Now, see here! There's no reason for name-calling! We'll simply contact the Chairman and let him check our research. God knows he's had to depend on his own studies time and again when he was stationed at the Hellmouth. Let him decide."

"Very well, but don't try to influence him to ignore my concerns. This is far too important!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Anthony grated, insulted to the core. "Come along, we must catch the Chairman before he leaves the cathedral."

********

Anthony and Percival missed Giles and the girls at the cathedral. They wandered around the area for twenty minutes or so, looking in every shop and café, but finally gave up and returned to the marble steps of the church. They sat on the cold stone, winded and defeated.

"Where could they be?" Percival whined, running a finger around the heel of his shoe. His feet were beginning to hurt.

"The rehearsal isn't until two," Anthony informed him, pulling out his ever-present pocket calendar. "They probably went for a bite."

"We checked all the cafes already."

"Chairman Giles knows London like the back of his hand," Anthony remonstrated with dignity. "He could be anywhere."

"So, we wait?"

"We wait." Anthony composed himself on the step, trying to look stoic. Not to be outdone, Percival sat at attention, determined not to move.

They ended up waiting almost an hour.

As Giles' limo pulled up in front of the cathedral the two men stood stiffly, shifting their weight to relieve their cramped muscles.

Giles saw them and strode forward immediately. "Anthony, Percy, what's wrong?"

Percival gave Anthony a knowing look. "You see? The Chairman knows something is wrong!"

"Of course I do," Giles said firmly. "Otherwise, you two wouldn't be sitting outside an unlocked church waiting for me."

"It's unlocked?" Percival whined. Anthony gave him a hard elbow in the ribs. Percival eeped, then remembered why they were here. "Sorry, sir. We've come about the ritual. There's a problem."

"Of course there is," Giles said reasonably. Buffy stepped up beside him, hearing the last part.

"I knew something had to go wrong," she began, but Giles held up a hand.

"At least, there would be a problem if certain portions of certain rituals weren't modified."

Anthony's eyes widened, then he nodded. Ah, the Chairman already knew. He found himself smirking again.

Percy was determined to have his say and impress the Chairman with his research. "Yes, Mister Chairman, there are three rituals that, separately, are quite harmless, in fact, beneficial. Combined, however..."

Again Giles held up a hand, silencing Percival immediately. "Combined, they could open a dimensional vortex. Yes, I was aware. And since Buffy is morally opposed to ritual sacrifices, blood-letting, and such like, I doubt very much we shall have a problem during our wedding."

"You're eliminating the sacrifices? But they..." Anthony thought about it a moment, then he breathed out a sigh of relief. "...are the only parts of the ceremony that may be altered without disturbing its meaning."

Percival looked slightly deflated. "Of course you were aware of this all along."

"Yes, I was. Without meaning any insult to Mister Wyndam-Pryce's research, or yours, I've learned over the years to trust no one's eyes but my own. I saw the implications immediately."

"And you didn't tell me?" Buffy had to interject. She was a little miffed that he wouldn't include her in his little discovery.

"What would be the point?" He turned to her, taking her hand. "I know you, love. You would never agree to the more graphic portions of these rituals. I knew you would object, so the discussion would have been a waste of an afternoon."

"Hmmm." Buffy couldn't decide, but she thought there was a compliment in there somewhere. "Okay, but this sets a dangerous precedent in our soon-to-be marriage, Rupert Giles. I don't want this to become a habit."

"Not at all, my dear. I fear I was being selfish." He leaned towards her, away from the two Watchers, and whispered, "I didn't want to waste time discussing rituals when we could be spending our private time in more pleasant pursuits."

She flushed with remembered pleasure and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Okay, you're in the clear. And keep that thought for later."

"I shall," he promised. Turning back to the two slightly embarrassed Watchers, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir!" Anthony responded immediately, ushering Percival away to their waiting car. "I told you the Chairman would know all about this," he hissed at his disgruntled partner.

Buffy giggled at the two as they strode away. "Percy was trying to make points," she observed with a tilt of her head.

"Didn't work," Giles replied with a smile. "Shall we go? Rehearsal is in ten minutes."

"Let's shall."

They went up the steps and Giles held one of the massive oak doors open for her. "Have you got all your steps memorized?" he asked as she passed under his arm.

"You're kidding, right?"

He followed her in, the door slowly closing behind him. "Not really. There are sixteen stations, and you lead the way to all of them."

Buffy's groan was heard just as the door closed completely.

********

The day before the wedding dawned gray and somber and cold. Giles and Buffy checked out of the hotel, leaving the suite to Willow and Dawn for the rest of the week. They got into Giles' personal car (another Rolls, of course) and drove out into the country southwest of London. It was a long drive, and Buffy asked Giles a hundred questions about his childhood memories of England as they traveled. He answered them all happily, but soon Buffy's curiosity gave way to boredom and she fell asleep with her head in his lap.

Her position made him feel protective and tender, and he stroked her hair while she slept, his thoughts wandering. He had made plans for their honeymoon, but if the setting did not please Buffy, he would change them immediately. They didn't have to be back for the beginning of the evening ritual until six, so they had plenty of time to decide where they should spend the first few days of their married life.

Just after eleven, the car pulled into a white gravel circle drive. The difference in their speed and the crunch of the tires woke her, and she sat up, blinking sleepily. "Are we here?"

"Yes." He couldn't resist giving her a squeeze, since she was leaning against him so nicely.

"Where's here?"

"My home."

"Your... what?" She looked at him, then past him at the rural setting. "I thought you lived in Bath."

"I keep a flat in Bath. This is my ancestral home." He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her slightly. "You're looking in the wrong direction, love."

"Oh, my God."

There was a castle behind them. At least, to Buffy it looked like a castle. It had turrets and everything. It was made of gray stone, huge and permanent-looking. The grounds were well kept and tended. The front entry was massively columned. It was three... no, four stories tall.

Giles got out of the car and held out his hand. She took it, still staring at the magnificent structure. "Is it a castle?"

Giles made a scoffing noise. "Of course not. It's a manor house, not a castle."

"It has turrets. Castles have turrets."

"One of my forefathers liked castles. He had the turrets added. They're mostly decorative."

"There are flags and everything!" She pointed at the Giles family crest waving proudly in the wind.

"Come on, let's get inside. If we are to spend our honeymoon here, we should make ourselves comfortable."

"Here?" she squeaked.

"Don't you like it?" he asked quickly, searching her face.

A broad smile slowly broke across the expression of confusion. "I love it," she breathed happily.

"There are horses, if you like to ride."

"Horses?" her voice squeaked again, and he began to chuckle.

"We've quite a bit of land here. Everything you see is mine... or will soon be ours." He pointed to a grove of trees in the distance. "There's a private hunting lodge there, if the house becomes to intimidating."

"Lodge?" she responded dreamily. She could just imagine them on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring file.

"Here we go again," he said with good humor, taking her by the arm and pulling her up the steps. "I hope you snap out of it soon, Buffy. We have to be back before the monks arrive."

"Monks?" she squeaked in surprise, and he began to laugh. The door opened as they approached, and a uniformed butler greeted Giles with a formal air that belied the twinkle in his eye. Giles introduced Buffy to Jamison as the family retainer, and she recovered her wits enough to ask, "Does he keep your teeth straight?"

The house was gigantic, of course, with a great hall at the back that overlooked the sloping hillside. Buffy stood, staring at the beautiful scenery, as Giles discussed timetables, menus, and requested that all services, including horse riding, be available to them while they were here. Once all the details were taken care of, he joined her at the floor-to-ceiling window, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her close.

"Do you like it?" he murmured into her hair.

"Like? I don't think that's the right word. More like I'm blown away and I love it!" She looked up at him accusingly. "You never told me you were rich... I mean, before all the Council stuff rich."

"I'm not rich, but I've always been comfortable. How did you think I survived an entire year without a job?"

"I mostly didn't think of it," she admitted, feeling guilty. "I was pretty Riley-blind at the time."

"Yes, you were." He remembered that year with sadness, but refused to dwell on it, since those sad times had brought them here. "But your eyes have opened a bit since then."

"Oh, yeah. Opened wide to the yummy goodness that is my Watcher." She raised her head, searching for a kiss, and he obliged her. She turned in his arms and proceeded to let him know just how un-blind she really was now. Only the presence of the house staff and the knowledge that they would need to unpack and head back to London kept him from indulging in further pre-marital communication.

They finally broke the kiss and set about to prepare for the next twenty-four hours. They stored their clothes in the master suite, an embarrassingly huge room with a massive four-poster bed whose sheer curtains reached almost to the ceiling. The bath had a deep claw-footed tub with shiny gold fittings, and there was a shower cubicle off to one side. There were his-and-her vanities with matching chairs, two giant armoires that could have easily held three people's wardrobes, and a large window with an even more impressive view than the downstairs hall.

They hurriedly packed an overnight bag and ate a quick lunch before starting back to London. Buffy stuffed herself with homemade bread and jam, declaring that she could get used to being a Lady of the Manor. Giles, delighted with her acceptance of his beloved home, was content to watch her happy face and know that it was he that put the smile of contentment there.

********

"The monks are already here! Where are they?" Willow hissed to Xander as they gathered outside the Chairman's inner chambers. "I'd go to the front door and wait, but I'd probably get lost."

"Yeah, they'd never find you in this maze. You could starve to death." Xander pulled at his collar, uncomfortable with the stiffly starched shirt and three piece suit Giles' assistant had insisted he wear. At least it wasn't tweed.

"It's almost six o'clock," she whispered again. "They have to start at six, or it's all for nothing."

"Can't they say a midnight blessing, or something? Midnight's all mystical and spooky."

"It's supposed to be six o'clock, or it's bad luck."

Xander stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked on his heels. "C'mon, G-man, let's get this show on the road."

A noise behind them made them both turn. Across the room Dawn and Anthony both sighed in relief as the two people of honor strode into the room. Buffy was wearing jeans and a sweater, while Giles was in cords and a long-sleeved Henley pulled over a white T-shirt.

"Hey! How come they get to be comfy?" Xander complained, trying to keep his voice down.

"It doesn't matter what they wear tonight," Anthony explained, appearing at Xander's side with Dawn in tow. "Tomorrow they'll make up for their casual clothing, I can promise you that."

"Good," Xander retorted. "It'll have to be pretty darn uncomfortable, then, 'cause this collar is cutting into my jugular."

"You look nice, Xander," Dawn said with an edge of shyness.

Xander's head came up, and he grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Okay, if the Dawnster is impressed, then I'll have to deal. Do we go in with them right now?"

"No, we have to wait out here until the chanting stops," Willow instructed. Around them, people were gathering at the doorway without going in. Strange, monotone sounds emanated from the room as they approached.

"Oh, good, they've started." Anthony relaxed visibly. "Right on the dot, six o'clock."

"Now what do we do?" Xander asked, fidgeting.

"We wait. There are certain places in the chant where we must bow."

"Bow?"

Willow elbowed Xander just as one of those places was reached. They all bowed, some more gracefully than others.

"This is gonna be a long night," Xander moaned, straightening slowly. "My back is already tired from crawling around that arbor all day. Imagine having to hand-tie every tree branch in place!"

"That's nothing," Willow scoffed. "Try testing a dozen spells to see if they're safe, without the people that are supposed to provide the energy, and without the blessings that are supposed to keep them safe. It's exhausting, not to mention annoying to the spirits you're invoking."

"You guys have it easy," Dawn told them with a grimace. "I had to go to every store in London looking for shoes that were made by hand, lace that was tatted in a certain way by a certain kind of little old lady, and can you imagine underwear without Lycra? I'm telling you, it was a nightmare!"

"All natural materials... you can't have anything disrupting the flow," Willow explained quietly. "Oh, here comes another bow."

"Oh, my aching back!"

"Be quiet, Xander!"

********

It seemed to take an eternity, but the monks finally left the room one by one, their orange robes looking far too festive for the solemn ritual they had just performed. The engaged couple appeared at the door a few minutes later amid the incense smoke and smell of fried rice. They both looked a little dazed. Giles was limping slightly as he approached his friends.

"What's wrong, Giles?" Xander looked at his friend with concern.

"Bloody knees," he said through his teeth. "You try kneeling motionless for two hours and see how you like it."

"It's your ritual, babe," Buffy said flippantly. "Now we get to eat."

"Rice and fish soup," Giles reminded her hesitantly, and she shrugged.

"After the great meal at Giles Manor, I can afford to eat light."

"Giles Manor?" Dawn asked. The crowd was moving towards another room down the hall, where a buffet-style table was set up. The bride and groom led the way, and the friends followed, not wanting to get lost.

"Giles has a huge almost-castle," Buffy said dreamily.

"Ooo! When do I see it?"

"After the honeymoon, little sister. For the next week, it's just me and the mister." She looked up at him, smiling. "And the butler, and the upstairs and downstairs maids, and the groom, and the cook..."

Willow started counted the people Buffy mentioned on her fingers, losing her place after the groom. "How many people live at this fantabulous house?"

"Lots."

"Ten," Giles corrected. "The gardener and his helper live in town, and the stable boys are usually college students. They're mostly in on weekends and holidays."

"Merciful Zeus," Xander exclaimed, holding a hand to his face.

"We'll have the top floor to ourselves," Giles promised Buffy, a twinkle in his eye.

"We'd better have," Buffy said firmly. "I want no witnesses to what I'm going to do to you, Mister Giles."

Dawn slapped her hands over her ears as the older ones chuckled. Xander looked a little uncomfortable, but he managed to control himself before he came out with a typically gauche Xander-ism.

"Tomorrow," Giles said softly, and Buffy practically glowed at him.

"Okay, here's the food... except there's no food." Dawn turned to Buffy. "I thought you were kidding about the rice."

"At least it's fried," Xander said, taking a plateful from the server. "There'll be a little bit of substance to it." He had worked hard all day, and he was _hungry_.

Instead of taking a plate from the line, Giles stepped up to one of the servers. They handed him a bowl of pure white steamed rice, which he presented to Buffy with a serious look. She in turn handed him a bowl of what looked like clear soup. They moved away from the crowd and took two chairs sitting opposite each other. As the group watched, they fed each other carefully, their eyes locked together.

"That's kinda sweet," Willow observed, but Xander snorted.

"Kinda weird, you mean."

"Well, yeah, but it's all symbolic," Dawn added. "They have to do certain things in a certain order or it'll rain frogs or something."

"Toads," Willow corrected absently. Xander flinched.

Behind them a waiter was handing out familiar-shaped bottles. "Hey, that looks like..."

"It is," Willow interrupted. "Just take it, drink it, and don't say anything."

Xander lifted the six-ounce bottle of original Coca-Cola and stared at it. Instead of trying to figure it out, he turned it up and began to drink.

********

"What a day for a wedding," Dawn complained, looking at the dangerously overcast sky. "It's gonna blow at any minute."

"Maybe not," Buffy soothed, watching as the matron that had helped her with the wedding dress carefully plaited her blonde hair. "This is kinda cool, though, having someone else do my hair."

"It is my honor, Miss Summers," the matron said firmly, concentrating on her work. She was parting Buffy's hair with a strange, metal comb that had a vicious-looking hook at one end.

"I don't think you ever told me your name," Buffy said kindly, feeling a little ostentatious with all the attention.

"You need not call me by name," the lady assured her gently.

"But I want to," Buffy insisted. "You've been a lot of help to me, and I want to know who I'm thanking."

The lady looked a little stunned, but she smiled. "I am Frau Gunter."

"Then thank you, Frau Gunter. And please, call me Buffy. I won't be Miss Summers for long."

The lady bowed her head respectfully, but Buffy saw the pleased look in her eyes. The matron continued braiding, careful not to pull on Buffy's scalp.

********

"I must say, you look mah-velous," Xander teased in an affected accent as Giles entered the Groom's chamber, dressed to the nines in his deep green suit.

"Thank you, I think." Giles stepped up to the mirror and regarded himself critically.

"No, you really do," Xander assured him in his normal voice. "Very well groomed and groom-like."

Giles fiddled with his bowtie for a moment, then dropped his hands and stared. "I'm nervous," he declared to his image, sounding surprised.

Xander put a sympathetic hand on Giles' shoulder. "You should be. Man, you're marrying one of the most amazing women that ever walked on this earth. Nerves are expected."

Giles looked at Xander's reflection behind him. "You're right, you know. It's perfectly normal to be a bit off kilter on the most important day of your life."

"Yep," Xander agreed, patting Giles a couple of times for comfort. "This is the biggest thing you've ever done, and that even includes preventing five or six apocalypses... or whatever the plural is supposed to be. Say... you don't have to put on a pink robe when you get inside, do you?"

Giles chuckled. "Heavens, no. Just a jacket."

"But... pink, right?"

Giles shook his head, still chuckling. "Come on, let's get to our places. This is going to be a long day."

********

Just before noon, a crowd gathered around the small arbor that Xander and his British associates had constructed. There was a slight wind lifting the boughs that formed the roof of the structure, and Xander frowned at the sky. "Looks like rain."

"It's hours away," Giles said confidently, and Xander's face relaxed. A sudden gust of wind ruffled their hair, and Xander's worried look returned.

"Here comes your entourage." Across the grounds, Anthony and Percival were leading a small group of tweed-clad Watchers towards the ceremonial area.

"Oh, joy," Giles sighed. The men stopped in front of him, looking as somber as only a group of Watchers could.

"Chairman, we still have to consecrate the grounds before the ceremony can begin," one of the unfamiliar Watchers said, causing both Giles and Xander to frown.

"That should have been done last night at midnight," Giles said warningly, his fists tensing.

"Yes, well, that was... ah... my fault," Percival said nervously. "I misread the text, thought it was noon today instead." Now that the shoe was on the other foot, Percival was hoping for the same leniency the Chairman had shown young Wyndam-Pryce a few days before.

"It's nearly that now. You'd best be at it."

Relieved at being spared a proper dressing-down, Percival bleated, "Yes, sir!" and turned, snapping his fingers. Instantly, the men fanned out, waving stalks of mysterious herbs and chanting.

Xander watched them with amusement. "Leave it to the Watcher Brigade to goof up a perfectly abnormal wedding."

Giles nodded absently, his attention elsewhere. Xander followed his gaze and his breath caught. "_Oh, boy_,' he thought. '_Oh boy oh boy oh boy...' _

A queen was approaching them. A blonde, slender queen, stepping regally across the close clipped lawn with a bevy of white clad attendants behind her, fussing over her dress. The dark blue gown shifted colors with each movement. With beautifully placed flowers in her hair to simulate the effect of a crown, diamond drop earrings and necklace adorning her fair skin, Buffy made her way to Giles' side with a very pleased smile on her face. She came up to them, and finally Xander noticed the attendants moving aside for two more brightly dressed girls. Dawn was in a royal blue gown made of the same soft velvet as Buffy's. Willow was in complimentary light blue, her red hair catching highlights despite the gloomy skies.

"Schpedoinkle," Xander finally said, his jaw hanging loose.

"Amen," Giles agreed. All he could see was Buffy. Behind her, a crowd was beginning to gather, both tweedy and non-tweedy.

Dawn looked around and recognized Digger, the pub owner, in the crowd. She waved, and he returned the gesture with a wide grin. He gave the universal thumbs-up gesture, and she nodded with a grin.

Giles was completely lost. If someone had asked him what to do next, he would have had no idea. All he could see was his lady, his bride, his queen.

"Hello, Rupert," she said softly. "I'm not supposed to touch you until after the handfasting, but there's no law against me looking." She gave him a thorough once-over, approving of his attire, her eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and strong hands. Shivers of anticipation tickled her spine, and she grinned more widely. "Yummy."

The minister in charge of the outside ceremony appeared just outside the church doors, and the crowd immediately grew silent.

"Ladies and Gentlemen: For the time we are here, participating in this ceremony, we declare that this place has become and is a sacred space, consecrated, set apart, holy."

As his words rang out, the circle appeared, framed by their closest friends. Buffy and Giles stepped into the circle, heads high, and the ceremony began.

To Xander, it was all a blur. There were vows, the minister tied a cord around Buffy and Giles' wrists, and everyone drank from a silver goblet when it was done. To him, it seemed pretty simple. _'Next time I plan on getting married, I might do this,'_ he thought. He noticed there was no kiss afterwards, and he thought that was kind of a gyp, but otherwise it was cool.

The couple exited the circle the same way they came in, and the minister stood back with an arm raised, directing them into the church. Buffy stopped at the door, staring at a piece of paper tacked to the jamb with a large nail. She looked up at Giles, determination on her face, and then tore the paper away from its impalement. She held it up and turned slowly, allowing everyone present to see her face.

"What's that?" Dawn asked quietly.

"Bans," Willow whispered. "Posting their intention to get married, and inviting anyone who objects to come forward and tell the priest so he can stop it."

"If anyone says anything, I'll kill 'em," Dawn grated.

"I dare anyone to object to this marriage," Buffy shouted defiantly, and Willow winced.

"Was that wrong?" Dawn whispered as the silence grew.

"Well, she was supposed to say, 'Dare ye any one to object to this marriage?' but her meaning seemed pretty clear. I think she'd pound any naysayers into the ground."

Dawn looked around. "Good thing nobody is objecting."

"She has to wait for exactly five minutes."

Buffy was frozen in place, the paper fluttering in her hands. It was the longest five minutes Dawn had ever experienced. Finally, Buffy dropped her hand, letting the paper go, and it blew away from her like a frightened bird. She turned, placed herself in front of the nail still protruding from the door frame, and with a single, sure motion, pulled it away and tossed it aside. She turned again, confident and regal.

"Then let us be married, and none can deny!" Her voice was strong, and Dawn felt a welling up of pride inside her heart.

"Come away with me, my sister, my bride," Giles voice rang out with surprising clarity. Dawn had never heard him sound so... forceful and sure. "Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride, thou has ravished my heart with one look from thine eyes, with one turn of thy neck!"

"Whew," Xander breathed behind Dawn, and she turned. "That's some hot stuff G-man is spouting."

"The Song of Songs," Willow said solemnly.

"The what of what?"

"From the Bible, the Old Testament," Willow explained calmly. "King Solomon's Song of Songs." She suddenly realized who was standing beside her, and frowned. ""I thought you were best man," she accused. "What are you doing over here?"

"I don't start best-manning until they get inside," he informed her. "At least that part of the ceremony is familiar."

Giles was again quoting from Solomon's Song. Buffy answered him, and the exchange went on for some time. Some of the language, while Biblical, was also a little... specific. Dawn found herself blushing more than once. After they finished their dialog, the two of them turned and reached for something beside the door. They both held up a branch of some kind and dipped it in a small urn sitting beside the door. To Dawn, it looked like water. The two of them brushed the door facings, beginning at the bottom of each side and meeting in the middle.

Thunder rolled across the sky, and the guests looked up nervously. The minister merely smiled... thunder during a wedding was considered a good omen.

When all the anointing was over, Buffy and Giles once again turned away from the door. Buffy took a few steps to one side, with Giles moving away from her an equal distance from the door.

"Here come the goats," Willow said. Dawn thought she was kidding until she heard a soft bleat.

"Oh, no!"

Another anonymous tweed-clad Watcher led six tiny kids up through the crowd, carefully guiding them to stand in front of Buffy. Dawn goggled at them, shocked, but soon realized that each cute little goat had a little pouch around its neck. Giles took the lead ropes from the other Watcher.

"The bride-price has been paid," Giles intoned, his voice thick with emotion. "To the only living relative present, I bestow a token of my fortune. Dawn Summers!"

Dawn squeaked and stepped forward, eyeing the goats warily.

"Here is my price," he addressed her, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Do you accept?"

"I... I... guess so." The crowd murmured at his, and Dawn looked around, at a loss. Finally, she squared her shoulders and stated firmly, "Yes, I do."

Giles led the goats, who were remarkably well-mannered, closer to Dawn. He leaned forward and said softly, "Remove the bags."

Dawn gave him a quizzical look, but she untied the string from around each goat's neck and gathered the six pouches in a bundle. Giles handed the lead line to the handler, who led them away. Then he turned and gave her further instruction. "Look in the bags. Put them on."

"Put... what?" She dug in the bag, finding a small, beautiful diamond drop earring in the very bottom. She couldn't help squealing again as she searched the other bags and found the matching earring, a necklace, a bracelet, a brooch and a ring. They were all small, perfect diamonds. She was almost beside herself, but she put them on. Giles smiled gently and moved back to his place opposite Buffy. Dawn stepped back to Willow's side, stunned. She didn't even notice the goats were gone.

"I have but one dowry," Buffy continued. "Dawn Summers, come here."

Dawn, still in shock over the jewelry, was barely able to walk, but she managed to stumble over to Buffy.

"This is my dowry. My only flesh and blood, my sister." She turned and presented Dawn to Giles. "Guard her well."

Giles opened his arms, and with tears streaming down her face, Dawn embraced her new brother-in-law. The hug went on for several moments, causing the crowd to whisper and mutter. Some approved, some didn't, but all were affected by the display of affection.

Finally, Dawn sniffed and released him. He thumbed a tear from her cheek with a smile and said, "Now, let's get on with the rest of this, shall we?"

"Lead on, McGiles," she said gruffly, and his grin widened.

"Dear girl. Now go back to Willow. You must precede us."

"Yeah, we go first," Dawn agreed, wiping her face with a tissue. She joined Willow and they took their places, waiting for their cue to enter.

In front of the wedding party, the crowd began filing into the cathedral, their silent reverence obvious. When the guests were seated, Willow took her place at the head of the aisle with a serene smile. The moment she was ready, sound began to roll from the open doors. The ancient pipe organ, still powerful despite its years, was playing a classical sounding piece that was majestic and joyful at the same time. There was a pause in the music, and Willow made her way towards the altar, the music swelling again and catching her up in its rhythm. Dawn followed, beaming, and they took their places at the front.

Xander looked over at his fellow groomsman, a youngish guy Giles had introduced as a distant cousin. He had traveled in from Sri Lanka to stand in for Giles' family. His name was Raymond something Giles, and he didn't seem nearly as thrilled with the wedding as the rest of them were. He just hoped he didn't have to punch the guy on Giles' behalf before the day was over.

Xander knew from experience that relatives could be a mighty big pain.

The music crashed and changed, soaring into the large hall, and Buffy appeared at the door. The guests all stood without being directed to do so, captivated by the slender beauty as she floated down the aisle towards her groom. Despite the many rituals that had preceded this part of the ceremony, to Buffy this was the defining moment. This was familiar. This was the real wedding.

Giles' face was the picture of awe and love, and Xander found himself getting a little teary eyed. Ol' Raymond didn't seem impressed, so Xander gave him a sharp elbow and whispered, "Smile, buddy. This is a good thing."

Raymond jumped and schooled his face into a more pleasant expression. Xander breathed a sigh of relief. He turned his attention back to the action at the altar. There was some kind of elaborate exchanging of flowers going on, with Buffy laying a rose on the front pew on her side of the church, and Giles doing the same with two roses on his side. The roses represented the members of their families that would not be attending the ceremony due to death... Buffy's mother, Joyce, and Giles' parents, Richard and Milicent.

Dawn's eyes blurred as she remembered how much her mother loved weddings. She hoped somehow that she was watching.

The priest began reciting the familiar words of a more traditional wedding ceremony. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union of Christ and His Church: which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."

Dawn leaned over to Willow. "I thought they did that ban thing already."

Willow shrugged. "They did, but this is part of a church wedding, so they left it in."

The rest of the wedding proceeded smoothly, with Giles and Buffy lighting a unity candle, exchanging vows, rings, and roses; they declared their fidelity in the strongest of terms, and kneeling carefully on the beautiful white rice paper, they bowed their heads while the priest blessed their union.

Buffy looked up at her new husband as the priest pronounced them husband and wife, her eyes catching his. He stood first, helping her to her feet.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest concluded, smiling.

"Oh, yeah," Xander said, _sotto voce_, as Giles proceeded to kiss Buffy very thoroughly. "When G-man does something, he does it right."

Raymond gave Xander a horrified look, but Xander just smiled back at him innocently.

Buffy and Giles exited the sanctuary amid more deafening organ music, and Xander escorted Dawn after them. Raymond and Willow were close behind. When the four of them left the church, they looked up at the steel gray sky. Thunder was still rumbling in the distance.

Xander spotted Buffy and Giles getting into yet another limo, this one brilliant white. "At least they got through the outside parts before it rained," he said lightly.

Raymond, who was obviously relieved that his part was over, glared at the sky. "It wouldn't dare rain on a Giles wedding," he stated. "It would break over a thousand years of tradition."

For some reason, that struck Xander as funny, and he began to giggle. Dawn and Willow joined him. Raymond followed them, confused, as they got into their waiting car.

"So, just one more thing, right? The tea and singing? Because if I don't get something to eat soon, I'm gonna die." Dawn's stomach growled as if to punctuate the statement.

"After this is over, we're all going out for steaks," Xander said expansively.

"My treat," Raymond said suddenly. "After all, I've been away from London for a long while. I could use a good roast beef."

"Welcome to the family, Raymond!" Xander gave him a firm handshake. The girls giggled again.

********

"Where are we going? I thought the tea thing was supposed to happen next." Dawn craned her neck to look at the passing scenery. Not that she wasn't enjoying the ride in the cushy comfortable limo, but she was anxious to see the rest of Buffy's wedding and call it done in her mind.

"We're going to Giles Manor," Raymond offered, smiling at Dawn. He'd thawed considerably after getting used to Xander's offbeat personality. Actually, he wasn't all that much older than his cousin's friends.

"Ooo, goodie!" Dawn exclaimed, clapping her hands twice. "Buffy says it's the most awesome place."

"It is rather impressive," Raymond agreed. "We'll have the tea ceremony, the reception, and then we'll all go have something to eat."

"Sounds like a plan." Xander patted his flat stomach. "I'm ready for some real grub. Eating rice and twigs and snaps is not my idea of dinner."

"Imagine how our guests of honor feel," Willow said thoughtfully. "They must be starving. I bet they haven't had a good meal since yesterday at noon when we all went to that cute little bistro. It's been rice, broth and crackers since yesterday, and they haven't even slept."

"I can imagine, and it scares me," Xander admitted. "You've seen Buffy when she's really tired and hungry... it isn't pretty."

"Poor Giles," Dawn said softly. "Has to put up with my sister's low blood sugar angries on his wedding day."

********

In the white stretch limousine that was leading the wedding party, food was the last thing on Buffy's mind. Only Giles' insistence that the driver could see them through the tinted windows kept her from ravishing him right there in the car. As it was, she was wrapped around him, making as much body contact as one could wearing a velvet, floor length wedding dress. Giles was doing his best to maintain control... only problem was, he was having to bolster both his _and _hers.

"Mmm... we're nearly there... Buffy... mmhhhhhh..."

"Mmmm to you, too. I'm not wasting any alone time. We're going to be surrounded the rest of the evening."

"Only until midnight... mmfff."

"Less talk, more smooch."

He kept one eye on the passing scenery, hoping to have enough time to straighten his clothes before he had to leave the relative privacy of the car. He doubted there would be a man present at his reception that would blame him for looking a bit... mussed.

"Two blocks," he managed to mumble, his lips bumping hers and sliding down to worry her jaw line.

"Plenty of time."

After a few more seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. "The hall is just ahead, love."

Buffy sat up, a hand going to her hair. Luckily, Giles was a very considerate man. He hadn't dislodged the intricate design, although some of the flowers needed re-adjusting.

"Allow me," Giles said with a flourish, pulling down a perfectly placed mirror from the ceiling of the car.

"Thank you. You're the absolute bestest husband in the world, even though you've only had about an hour's practice."

"We still have two more rituals to go before the Council acknowledges our union." Giles tugged his tie back into place and checked to be sure his shirt was properly tucked in.

"As far as I'm concerned, we were married the moment I said, 'I do.' So the Council can stuff it."

Giles chuckled happily as the car pulled into the driveway of Giles Manor. "Well, then, Missus Giles, would you care to accompany me into our new home?"

"I'd be delighted, Mister Giles."

They were a few steps from the door, with Jamison doing his best to keep a properly straight face, when Giles swept Buffy off her feet so swiftly she didn't even have time to squeal.

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you across the threshold of our new home. Well... one of them, anyway."

"This wasn't in the Book of Ceremonies!"

"I'm starting a new tradition. It's been this way for centuries. It's about time someone updated that book."

"You're a rebel," Buffy said with a giggle, holding her skirt against her as he went through the entry. "And what did you mean, 'one of them'?"

"There are a few others."

"A few? How few? Ten few? Twenty few?"

"Later, love, I promise." He placed her on her feet and straightened her dress slightly, his hands obviously wanting to wander more than propriety would allow. "We have to dress for the tea ceremony."

"One blonde, slightly tone-deaf Japanese singer, coming up!" She turned and saw Frau Gunter, who was waving towards one of the paneled doors. "I gotta go get pink, but we are not finished with the 'one of them' conversation."

"We'll have plenty of time to discuss it soon," he promised. His eyes glinted evilly as he added, "But you may not be in much of a mood to talk for a while."

"You're a confident man, Rupert Giles." Buffy blew him a kiss and glided away, the deep blue gown catching golden highlights from the lit candelabras and oil lamps that lined the walls.

Anthony was, of course, waiting for Giles at the opposite end of the hall. Xander was waiting for them, eyeing the garment across the room with suspicion. He grinned. "Hey, Giles, I was trying to decide what to call that color. Watermelon? Alberta Peach with extra blush?"

"Try 'hot pink'," Giles said wryly, shrugging his tux jacket off his shoulders. One of the attendants brought the silk jacket and helped him slip it on. It was a perfect fit... hours of tailoring had assured that. The color didn't seem to faze Giles in the least. It was a small price to pay for the privilege of spending the rest of his life with Buffy.

Xander circled around, staring at the jacket from all sides. He really couldn't say much without falling into jokes about Liberace, so he left it alone. The jacket was heavily embroidered with bright red, yellow, and green thread, and there were different kinds of seed pearls sewn into the needlework.

"What time is it?" Giles demanded, interrupting Xander's examination. "They wouldn't let me wear my watch."

"Nearly six," Anthony spoke up. "Plenty of time."

"Yeah, he has to walk all of twenty feet to get where he's going. It might take an actual minute."

Anthony sighed. Another completely clueless American. "Timing is everything in these rituals," he informed Xander with a frown that curtailed further sarcasm.

The male contingent of the wedding party marched down the hall with Giles in the lead. His role in the next ceremony was that of the new head of household, and Buffy was to serve him humbly without even meeting his eyes. He very much doubted that could happen.

The large front drawing room was transformed into a passably oriental setting, and he arrived at the door just as Buffy was coming out of her room, resplendent in bright pink.

"Is there no color that does not compliment her beauty?" Anthony asked breathlessly. He obviously didn't mean to say that aloud, and took a quick breath as Giles' eyes met his. They stared at each other for a moment, the younger man quailing visibly under his superior's dark gaze. Finally, Giles' brow smoothed, and he smiled.

"To my knowledge, Buffy looks beautiful in whatever color she chooses to wear," he said softly. He turned back to his waiting bride, smiling to himself.

"Hey, husband."

"Hey, wife."

"I really can't pronounce the stuff I'm supposed to say next. Can you help me?"

He grinned. "Of course. I can't sing for you, though... all that falsetto makes me hoarse."

"If I can get through this without calling down hailstones or toads, I'll be eternally grateful."

He tilted his head and regarded her with interest. "How grateful?"

She loved his teasing tone. "Hang around and find out, big boy."

"I believe I shall."

The gong signaled the beginning of their entrance. Buffy immediately fell behind Giles, walking exactly two steps behind, and the feeling made him uncomfortable. He almost turned to force her to walk with him, but he reminded himself this was her wish... to complete the entire Ceremony of Joining between a Watcher and his Slayer.

He seated himself easily at the low table, folding his long legs in front of him without too much discomfort. Buffy immediately began preparing the tea, and without his prompting, began singing in a lovely, untrained soprano. He was pleasantly surprised, translating the words easily despite her somewhat shaky pronunciation.

_'Oh, my love and I are suitable,' _she sang.

_'We come from different backgrounds, but we mesh easily,'_

_'Our households profit greatly from our joining,'_

_'We will honor our families by our union.'_

He fought a chuckle as the song continued, praising the practicality of their marriage and just how proud their ancestors were of the whole affair. The song finished just as Buffy was formally presenting the tea bowl, properly oriented, for him to drink.

"Oh, well done," he breathed, hoping she could hear. She did, and her face lit up briefly. She quickly resumed the subservient mask and completed the ceremony, never faltering in her movements. It was exquisitely performed, and he wanted to shout, "_Bravo!"_ when they finished. His British reserve won out, and he simply favored her with a warm smile.

As they stood together, hands clasped, the room broke into applause. It startled Giles momentarily, as he'd completely forgotten about the guests in his appreciation of Buffy's performance.

"Ah, yes... hmm. Well, shall we?" He motioned towards the door.

"Let's shall," she teased, and he grinned. Those words were first exchanged so many years before, and they epitomized this relationship. He strove to be correct, true to form, and she strove to be innovative and fresh. And yet, each of them valued the other's abilities and viewpoints.

"Oh, can we eat now? Really eat?" she asked as he escorted her to the great hall in the back of the manor.

"Once we complete the last ritual, there are no further restrictions on what we consume..."

Her raised eyebrow made him blush, just a little, but he met her gaze boldly, and her widening grin told him she was enjoying his lack of embarrassment.

"But remember, we have to exchange bowls of sake exactly nine times."

"Oh! Right. Great. I haven't had a decent meal in 48 hours and you're going to get me drunk right off the bat."

He giggled softly, looking up as they entered the room. "Oh, my," he said quietly. "The old place has never looked better."

"Yeah, more of Andrew... and Benson's... magic, judging by all the flowers."

"They're quite lovely."

"Understatement, much?" she teased again, nudging him. Then they were inside, and the crowd of well-wishers descended upon them, freed from the constraints of the previous rituals.

It took them almost thirty minutes to actually get to the sake part, and by that time Buffy was full of tidbits of sandwich, cookie, and canapé, all pressed into her hands by well-meaning friends who were convinced she was anorexic. They finally moved to the table that held the hand-painted sake bowls, and she eyed their generous size with some discomfort.

"Do we have to drink all that? I'm kinda full."

Giles glanced down from his conversation with a whiskered, dark-skinned man with a snow white turban. He took in the nearly pint-sized containers, and frowned a little. "Yes, we have to drink it all. We can't set the bowls down once we begin."

"Oh, wow... Rupert, remember Cave Slayer? There's nothing fishy in the sake, is there? 'Cause I really don't want to hit anyone over the head with a club."

He chuckled and lifted the bottle to examine its seal for damage. "Looks safe enough," he proclaimed. She watched as he opened, examined, sniffed, and poured the sake into the decanter on the table. He bowed deeply, took the decanter, poured a generous bowlful, and offered the bowl to her. She bowed and took it with one hand, carefully taking the decanter and pouring an estimated equal amount into the remaining container. She put the decanter down, took the bowl, and offered it to him with a hint of a smile.

"Here we go," he said with a hint of anticipation. He rather liked sake. He was hoping Anthony had chosen a decent one. They both bowed slightly, holding up their bowls as a salute, and took a sip.

"Huh. Not bad," Buffy said quietly, after she'd thoroughly evaluated the taste.

"Excellent choice," Giles agreed.

"You mean, it's supposed to taste good? I thought all alcohol was supposed to be... well... bleauch."

They exchanged bowls with slow, careful movements and took another sip. Buffy regarded her bowl with concern. It didn't seem like they'd made much of a dent.

"This one is rather nice, I think. A bit on the fruity side, but I suspect Anthony considered your more... inexperienced tastes."

They swapped again. The third sip was even more pleasant to Buffy. "Just because I don't have seven or eight bottles sitting on my kitchen counter..."

Another sip. "It's quite all right, love. It doesn't matter at all. I should think my drinking will be much curtailed in future. When one has someone to come home to, one rarely indulges in drinking to forget."

Buffy giggled, almost missing her next sip because Giles was passing his bowl to her. "You can't be getting tipsy, Giles. It's only been a few minutes, and you already sound like the Prime Minister."

"Rupert, remember. And I do not." Sip. Swap.

"Do, too. Rupert."

"Do not."

Buffy giggled again. The swapping was beginning to take on a rhythm. "This is more fun than all the other rituals put together... well, except the wedding part. That was good. Even if I wasn't in white."

"You looked magnificent in that gown," he said with a dreamy expression. She giggled and took a generous sip, wondering when the bowl would be empty. They still had three rounds to go, and there was still an awful lot of the amber-colored liquid in the bottom.

"The sake is multiplying," she told Giles gravely.

He examined his bowl, taking her comment seriously for the moment. One didn't become inebriated in fifteen minutes. "I think we can handle the rest," he said with confidence. "Take a good draught this time."

"A good what? I was gonna try and get about half of what's left down."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, that should work."

They drank deeply, trying to lower the level of wine in the bowls, with modest success. Giles gasped a little after he swallowed. "I say, that's rather a lot of sake."

Buffy's giggles almost did him in. "I love it when you're all British." Their hands were shaking slightly as they exchanged bowls.

"I love you," he declared, taking a manful pull at the bowl as soon as she passed it.

Buffy swallowed hard, almost choking on the astringent liquid. "I love it when you say that."

"Be prepared to hear it often."

"Hourly would be nice."

"Done."

They gazed at each other, totally besotted, not only with the heady dose of wine but with each other.

"Ahem," Anthony interrupted their longing looks to point to the bowls in their hands. "Mister Giles..."

"Ah, yes, Anthony, you're right. One more, love, and we're through."

They exchanged bowls again, barely avoiding sloshing sake on the tablecloth. Suddenly, it was very important to get the ritual making over with so they could commence with other things.

The last sip seemed to last forever, and Buffy was beginning to doubt she could drink her required amount, but Giles had done his part, and she finished the last drop without drowning herself. She looked up as Giles lowered his bowl. Their eyes met. Hers were slightly crossed, but she managed to focus on his face.

"I think it's time to go," he said hoarsely.

Buffy nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"I shall remember the aphrodisiac effects of sake in future," he managed to grate, his throat tight with desire.

"Doubt if we'll ever need it," Buffy whispered soggily. Their heads were slowing drawing closer together, as if they had forgotten the crowd that surrounded them.

The moment they placed their empty bowls on the table, they were surrounded by their friends and colleagues, all of them full of congratulations and well-wishing. They responded automatically, their minds elsewhere. Buffy even managed not to giggle, although every word that was said struck her as extremely funny. At a quarter to midnight, Giles could stand it no longer. He broke from the circle of Watchers that surrounded him, strode purposefully over to where Buffy was unsteadily leaning against a wall, took her firmly by the hand and escorted her out of the room. She didn't seem to mind in the least.

Percival watched Giles with barely disguised irritation. "After all we've gone through to make this ceremony a success, and he openly flouts tradition. Disrespectful!"

Anthony had to laugh, drawing another frown from Percival. "Prissy, old thing, you've got a lot to learn about our new Chairman. He's definitely a man of action!"

Percival was so appalled by the implications of Anthony's statement he refused to speak to him the rest of the evening.

Across the room, Xander, Dawn and Willow were discussing London restaurants with Raymond Giles. They noticed the guests of honor leaving the room, and exchanged knowing smiles.

"That'll be the last we see of them until, oh, the middle of next week at least," Xander predicted, hoisting his glass of champagne as a salute in their direction.

"That leaves plenty of time for shopping," Dawn declared happily, sipping from her glass.

"I'll ask Anthony if he wants to go."

"How about you, Ray? Up to educating a bunch of ignorant Americans in the finer points of shopping in London?"

Raymond smiled. He had relaxed considerably once he realized these people weren't judging him for his name or his decision to become something other than a Watcher. "It's been a while, but I might be able to spare a day before I go back to the reserve."

"Reserve, huh? What was it you said you did in Sri Lanka?" Dawn sighed. "That sounds like such a cool place."

"Cool, it isn't," Raymond said with amusement. "But I'd be happy to tell you about my work with the indigenous species of the rain forest."

"Oh, you're an environmentalist!" Willow chirped happily.

"Of a sort," He admitted with a slight blush. "Shall we say, around tennish tomorrow? I know a small café that serves a magnificent brunch."

As the four of them headed for the door, waving Anthony over to them as they went, Dawn glanced around the beautiful manor house that was now her home. One of them, anyway.

"The limo is waiting to take us back," Anthony said with pride. "Shall we go?"

"All of us?" Willow pointed around at everyone, including Raymond, who looked pleased at being included.

"Of course, Willow. Everyone who arrived in style shall return home in like manner."

Dawn giggled and looped her arm through Anthony's. "You have the neatest way with words," she gushed. Anthony grinned widely, Raymond and Xander rolled their eyes, and Willow sighed happily.

As the five of them headed for the door, Dawn gave Anthony's arm a squeeze and declared, "I just know I'm gonna love England!"

********

She could hear his deep, even breathing as she drifted from sleep to wakefulness. It became her entire world for a dawning moment. The gentle, sibilant sounds gave her a feeling of security and welcome. Some people loved the soft sounds of ocean waves on the shore, or the rhythm of rain on a tin roof, but for her, the sound of her lover breathing in perfect contentment at her side was the sweetest music she had ever heard.

Finally giving in to curiosity, she turned her head carefully, mindful of the mild headache that still lingered from the sake, and stared at the mantle clock still visible in the soft glow of coals in the fireplace. Four a.m. The room was growing cool, but she was perfectly warm. She snuggled back into her husband's arms with a sigh, thankful for her Slayer metabolism that quickly eliminated the more extreme effects of alcohol, and waited for the oblivion of sleep to overtake her once more.

She was dozing peacefully when suddenly, like sun pouring through a break in the clouds, she felt him.

The sensation of complete awareness caught her by surprise. She sat up slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He was instantly awake at her movements, sitting up and reaching for her instinctively.

"Buffy? What's wrong? Are you sick? What..."

The awareness struck him then, and he froze.

"Good... good heavens..."

She turned to look at him, eyes wide with surprise and not a little fear. "Is this a spell?" she said hesitantly, reaching out to touch his face. The contact reassured her, and she felt his negative response before he voiced it.

"No, I believe it is the culmination of the many rituals we have observed in the last forty-eight hours," he replied honestly. "It's nothing to fear, merely a heightened sense of... um, closeness."

"Will it last?"

Giles thought briefly. "There are several instances in the Watcher's diaries of the eighteenth century..." Her exasperated expression stopped him, and he grinned sheepishly before adding, "It should last... perhaps even grow stronger with time."

Buffy smiled, sending waves of relief his way. "Good, 'cause I'm liking this a lot and I don't want it to stop."

"Truly?"

"Truly, Watcher-mine."

She leaned forward and they kissed almost experimentally. The awareness remained, but other than the expected pleasure of lip-to-lip contact there were no fireworks, no unusual sensations, and no mysterious side effects. That didn't stop them from making a thorough examination of kissing before they decided it was safe.

Slowly, Buffy slid beneath the covers with Giles above her. The cocoon-like feeling of safety returned, and she hummed softly in response.

Giles detached his lips from hers and looked down at her, his face serious. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" She was disappointed that he'd stopped. A faint sense of reproof hung in the air.

"The sensation of... well, I don't know exactly how to characterize it. Safety, coziness..."

"Home," Buffy added. She traced his lips with a fingertip. "It's like we're finally home."

"Home," he agreed. "You're exactly right."

"Rupert Giles, wherever you are, that's my home now."

An unexpected spring of tears formed in his eyes. "That's lovely, Buffy. Thank you."

"It's true." She slid her hand up to his neck and applied gentle pressure. "Now, back to our regularly scheduled smoochies."

"As you wish, my love."

********

And they lived happily ever after.

And, as expected, England was never the same again.

The End


End file.
